


13. Breathe in breathe out

by Anything00but



Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, Fire, Getting Back Together, Good Peter Hale, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt Peter Hale, M/M, Peter Hale is a Little Shit, Sane Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anything00but/pseuds/Anything00but
Summary: Stiles looks between the three of them angrily. Peter has gone too far if he thought Derek could persuade him to return, and Lydia should know better, she really should. They both should know better than to come between his and Peter’s fight. But he has to give it to them, to have the courage to try.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Whumptober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947130
Comments: 4
Kudos: 137
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	13. Breathe in breathe out

delayed drowning/chemical pneumonia/ **oxygen mask**

  
  


Stiles has just returned to Derek’s loft when he becomes aware that Lydia and Erica are both standing by the living room. A short distance behind them Derek looms like an ominous presence, like always, scowling. Stiles sighs loudly. He knew something was up when he got a call from Derek. Derek never calls, he texts.

Stiles’ grips his phone with white knuckles to not throw it at the man.

"What?" He demands instead of destroying his phone, and wincing at how cold he sounds, even to his own ears.

"Sit down?" Erica asks unsure, indicating the way towards the couch. 

Stiles is about to argue when Lydia steps up beside him and says softly: "Stiles, just give us a minute. We have some serious news for you you would like to know." 

He growls and trails after his friends. If they thought they could force him home with Peter they would be dead wrong. Peter can continue being a bastard all alone for all Stiles’ cares. He doesn’t want to go there anymore.

"You need to go home", Derek says as soon as Stiles sits down on the couch, "Your real home- the apartment you share with Peter."

Stiles shakes his head while he stares at Derek with cold eyes: "In case you have not heard, that is no longer my home."

"I heard. Nevertheless you need to come back with me. Now”, Derek commands and Stiles scoffs.

Stiles looks between the three of them angrily. Peter has gone too far if he thought Derek could persuade him to return, and Lydia should know better, she really should. They both should know better than to come between his and Peter’s fight. But he has to give it to them, to have the courage to try.

Lydia interrupts before he could speak: "There's been an incident. At the apartment. Peter got a little upset-"

"Oh for god's sake Lydia. Stop talking to me like I’m a child and get to the point." 

Derek turns to him with a severe look: "He got pissed after he heard you had gone out with someone, smashed a few things around and set fire to your bedroom before passing out. He's in the hospital right now and no you cannot see him. He'll be fine in time, he just needs fresh clothes."

"Bloody hell. How did you-", Stiles starts but Derek cuts him off.

"I was on the phone with him listening to him rant about how he needs to burn it all because you are not coming back. Apparently he doesn’t need the apartment when you don’t want to live there.", Derek growls at him as he grabs Stiles by the arms, turning him around pointing him towards the front door, "Let's go." 

Stiles tries to protest but Derek keeps herding towards the front door. Derek has decided that the fight ends tonight and it will. Either with Stiles’ cooperation or not. He will lock those two in a room if it is what it takes.

Derek keeps Stiles in arms reach all the way out to his Camaro in the car park. Half the time with a hand in the small of Stiles’ back to keep him from making a break for it. Like Stiles would even try. Derek opens the passenger side door for the boy, glaring at him until Stiles finally relents and gets in the car without fighting against it.

The ride to the apartment is silent with tension thick enough in the car to be cut with a knife until Derek finally snarls as they pull up to the apartment: "This fight between the two of you, it ends today, I will make sure of it."

"It's none of your business”, Stiles snarls right back at him as he slams Derek's car door closed.

"It is when my uncle is setting the bedroom on fire and at the same time himself, while he is terrified of it and you are acting like a toddler. Then, it is my damn business, whether you like it or not. Get your ass in there and find Peter some new clothes", Derek leads Stiles towards the front door by his hand.

"Your uncle happens to be a bastard", Stiles snaps at him as he begins to unlock the door securities and tapping in the code, “You must know where we stand at the moment.”

"Yes he is, and you aren’t much better", Derek says ignoring the last part of Stiles’ sentence. 

Of course he knows what Peter has done, or rather not done. He doesn’t want to take part in this but he can’t let this go on anymore. No one knows Peter better than Stiles and visa versa. They are too codependent to let this go on for much longer. Peter is a mess without Stiles, and Stiles is hurting more than he lets it show by trying to act fine. At least what Derek has heard from Peter and his drunken calls at night. Derek must wonder where his uncle has gotten so much of wolfsbane infused alcohol and he is afraid to ask.

"Fuck-", Stiles whispers as he steps inside the front door of the apartment, glass crunching under his shoe. 

There is more than likely not one unbroken piece of table service left in the kitchen cupboards. Table lamps are shattered on the floor and book shelves are toppled. Basically everything that can be thrown is thrown. The apartment reeks of smoke also. There are no pictures on the walls. There are books shredded on the living room floor and the whole place is just a mess.

"What the fuck was he thinking?” Stiles asks as he takes in the chaos.

"He wasn't", Derek states drily, "Being Peter. Reacting the best he knows how to. And lots of alcohol- lots. Clothes Stiles, now."

Derek urges Stiles as he is becoming distracted by the state of the apartment. 

"I think he has some things in the spare bedroom, at least he did once", Stiles mumbles as he heads up the stairs slowly still surveying the damage around him. 

He stops just outside their bedroom hesitating before stepping inside as he stares at the enormous amount of damage. Walls are scorched black and grey in places as is one of the bedside tables. The bed's completely lost, only a ashen frame left.

"Fuck..." He whispers and rubs his temples. 

What had Peter been thinking? 

But Stiles can only think that Peter had been incredibly lucky that he had been talking to Derek or the entire building would have probably gone up in flames. The idiot, Stiles cries in his mind as he can only wonder what had gone through Peter’s mind as he had taken out the lighter. But he knows- he knows and he hates himself for it.

Stiles has found Peter some clothing the man won’t outright refuse to wear and is coming back down the stairs. 

"I don't know what you expect me to do Derek. He doesn’t want to find time for me. Shouldn’t I be looking for someone who is willing to spare me their time more than once a week”, Stiles snarls as he pushes the clothes to Derek.

"What I expect you to do is to stop this childish game both of you are playing", Derek glares at him, “You have been together too long for this kind of childish game.”

"I am not-" Stiles starts.

"Oh yes you are Stiles. You both are childish. Shut up and listen to me", Derek points an angry finger at him, "The dolt cares about you. God knows why, because you are a fucking bastard, but he does. And I don't care how pissed off you are at him- you care too. So figure it out and you two fix this. I am tired of babysitting him and refuse to do it anymore."

"But I..." Stiles mumbles weakly.

"No. No but. You will fix it, no buts", Derek reaches down picking up the remains of a table lamp and he places it back on the table even though only half of it remains. 

"Put his clothing in something and I'm taking you to the hospital to see him", Derek’s snarls disappearing and the hard look softens slightly, "Just talk to him Stiles. Fix this. I know you are just as tired of this as he is."

\-----------

"Peter- Stupid bastard", Stiles sighs shaking his head. 

He sits the bag with clothing aside as he pulls up a chair next to the bed to wait for Peter to wake up.

It doesn’t take long for this phone to start ringing. He sighs as he pulls it out from his pocket staring at the callers ID. He should tell the man to fuck off, their little fling is over. But before he can do anything the phone stops ringing. A second later it starts again.

He hopes to ignore it but then a rough voice rasps: "Just fucking answer it.”

Peter leans forward coughing that ended in an uncomfortable groan as he attempts to shift against the pillows. Peter is hooked up in IV and whatnot pain meds and he is wearing an oxygen mask. It makes Stiles wonder how much worse the damage really is than it is showing to the outside.

"The new boyfriend, I would assume", Peter snarls bitterly turning his face away from Stiles, "Little too keen isn't he?"

Stiles ignores him as he turns his phone off without answering the call. He sits a little straighter in the hard plastic chair. The other man's status as 'boyfriend' is by no means confirmed but there are much more pressing things to deal with at the moment. His friend who just called would just have to wait his turn on the line that keeps on growing every minute of the day. Stiles leans towards the older man in the bed but Peter refuses to look at him. 

"What the hell are you doing Peter? You burned our place."

"Our place huh?" Peter snorts. 

He glares down at his bandaged hands. They throb and Peter fears to see what damage is under the wrappings. He knows he will heal in a matter of days but it will take time. And it doesn’t mean it’s a comfortable feeling to feel your skin growing back. Stiles is staring at him with his mouth pressed into a thin disapproving line, like he is reading his thoughts. Knowing Stiles he possibly could be doing just that.

"Yes. Our apartment, my name still happens to be on the papers", Stiles mumbles out loud.

Peter sniffs and Stiles looks at him startled to see tears glinting in Peter’s eyes. Fucking hell he didn’t meant to say that. He hurries on: "So... Now we're both temporarily homeless. Never thought I would say this but we need to act like adults."

"Still a sarcastic little shit", Peter sniffs and begins coughing again under the oxygen mask. 

Stiles holds a glass of water to Peter's lips for him to sip. Peter lifts the mask for a minute to drink before placing it back on. Peter doesn’t thank him but Stiles didn't expect him to. He knows Peter, this is his way of acting like a bastard without outright insulting anyone.

"You're not yelling”, Peter states drily after a while.

"Peter, I don't know how to feel. I’m furious, scared and hurt- Why? Why would you do something like that to me? You could have died. We both know how you don’t want to be anywhere near a fire. And don't give me some bullshit about being better off dead or- or having nothing to live for because I’m not there", Stiles growls weakly as he presses his forehead to the cool sheet of the bed frame. 

He is tired beyond belief and this is the final straw. He doesn’t want to keep going on like this. Possessions can be replaced with money or fixed if they happen to hold sentimental value. But this infuriating bastard... The tightness in Stiles' chest threatens to choke him as he even thinks about it. Stiles remains with his face buried in the hard hospital sheets, eyes closed trying to stop the tears from falling.

“Maybe Lydia can find us somewhere to stay until our apartment is fixed”, Stiles mumbles.

“You said us, Stiles. Didn’t think that existed anymore”, Peter mutters coarsely at him bringing on another coughing spell.

Stiles watches, feeling helpless as he sees the mask turn foggy from the inside. He was so close to losing this bastard, and he wouldn’t even have known about it until days later. He can’t let this go on any longer. He hates to admit but Derek is right, he needs to fix this.

“We have to do something Peter”, Stiles sighs and his head drifts back down to lie on the bed again, emotion and exhaustion taking its toll on him, “We need to fix this. You can’t live without me and I can’t live without you. That much is clear.”

Peter laughs in between coughs.

“Well- if we don’t, one of us is going to die. Most likely both of us. You are a bastard, you know that Peter. Don’t you dare scare me like that again”, Stiles snarls at him, choking back a sob that is threatening to leave his lips. 

He is so angry with Peter but he could not bear the thought in the long run of not having Peter in his life. Maybe Derek is right when he always says that they are codependent on each other. They can manage on their own for a while until one of them pulls a stunt like this. But it never has been this severe before.

“You’re a little shit, Stiles”, Peter snarls his voice holding no venom behind it.

“At least I didn’t try to burn our apartment”, Stiles remarks back.

A wheeze has settled in Peter's chest along with the irritating cough. His head throbs with the vodka hangover and the wolfsbane trying to run its course out of his system. He knows he will start to heal as soon as the last traces of wolfsbane has burned out of his system but it could take some time.

Stiles stands carefully up and places his hand on part of Peter’s cheek that isn’t covered by an oxygen mask. He knows they will make it through this. They always have and Stiles trying to move on was a bad idea from the start and he knows it. Both of them need to learn to talk more and clearly Stiles needs to have a serious talk with Peter about the way he handles difficult situations.


End file.
